


Johanna Mason: Broken and Strong

by theatergal33



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Competition, Love, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatergal33/pseuds/theatergal33
Summary: This is my first time writing a Hunger Games fanfiction! It centers around my favorite character, Johanna Mason. The first chapter covers Johanna's reaping and the relationships she has with her family. I hope you all enjoy! Your kind words and kudos mean the world to me.





	1. Chapter 1

When I open my eyes, the first thing that registers is the soreness permeating through every inch of my body. I attempt to rise from the thin mattress, thinking that I have to get ready for work before I remember what day it is. I push back the covers and jump up, hugging myself tightly. It’s reaping day. Quietly, I head down the hallway to what poses as a bathroom in our house. The room, paneled with dark wood, contains a small bucket and pump with threadbare towels in the corner. I strip and scour all the dirt that accumulated over yesterday’s shift away and wash the grease from my hair. I’ve just thrown a towel around my shoulders when the door opens. My older sister pokes her head in.   
“Do you mind if I pick an outfit for you?”   
“Not at all.”   
My fashion sense is abysmal, and even that’s putting it nicely. I wear the same outfit every day to the woods, so Kaylie’s help is the only way I’ll look presentable. In a couple of minutes, I’m outfitted in a golden dress with matching shoes. The dress has black lace flowers stitched around the neckline and flowing bell sleeves that delicately cover my heavily muscled arms. Kaylie works at the tangles in my wet hair until it is soft to the touch, then pins a few loose strands back with a simple pearl pin. Her hand lingered on my hair for just a little longer than usual. “You look beautiful,” she says.   
“Yeah, if the Capitol likes their entertainment dressed up like a present,” I retort.   
Kaylie rolls her eyes, but she and I both know there’s truth to what I said. My sister knows the blunt, sometimes rude way I talk about people I don’t particularly care for. In this case, it’s the citizens of the damn Capitol. My gaze flicks to the mirror before I can stop it. The best word that can be used to describe me is plain. I have dark brown eyes and a somewhat angular face, with high cheekbones. My hair is the same shade as my eyes, straight, and falls down to the middle of my back. I am utterly forgettable-looking. Not like my twenty-year-old sister, with her glossy black curls, rosy skin, and blue eyes that look like water. Once after I answered a question correctly at school, a boy told me that my sister is so stunning she probably sells her body in the Capitol. That afternoon he went home with an inflamed cheek and a black eye.   
“You only have one more year after today, Johanna,” Kaylie says.   
I nod, but all I can think is that she is safe. I am not.   
“I would volunteer for you, if I was eligible,” my sister adds. Although she tries not to show any emotion, it’s hard to remain calm when a sibling is at reaping age. I remember being nine years old watching Kaylie, then twelve, at the reaping ceremony. I waited, both my parents’ arms wrapped around me, and prayed the arena wouldn’t take my sister away from us. The Capitol was merciful to my sister. We got lucky, but there’s a lot of families in District 7 who couldn’t escape the power of the ruling city of Panem. Sometimes I see them around the woodland where I work. They’re starved, pallid creatures, faces sorrowful and heavy with the loss of a young child. I can’t imagine my family going through that! That’s why Kaylie and I work ourselves to the bone along with our mother and father. As long as we can get by, my baby brother never has to sign up for tesserae. Kaylie kneels down so our eyes are level and cups my face with her hand, smiling kindly.   
“My little iris is in full bloom.”   
At the mention of the nickname she gave me when I was not even two years old, I smiled too. She always knows exactly how to make me feel better.   
My sister stands up and takes my hand.   
“Are you ready?”  
I nod again, and the two of us head into the living room that doubles as a kitchen. It’s small like my bedroom and Kaylie’s, sparsely furnished with a fireplace, wood counter, and a couple baskets where we keep food. My mother and father are standing near the fireplace, talking in hushed but insistent voices. They stop immediately when they catch sight of me. Both of them hug me and we all eat a quick breakfast of bread and cheese which my mother takes out of one of the baskets in the corner. We’re not like other families in District 7 that can afford nicer food, not even on reaping day when many of the merchants sell their wares at half price. I am impoverished, but nowhere like the children in District 12. I look from one tense face to another. None of us speaks until my little brother comes running in as fast as his little legs will carry him. Seven-year-old Chase heads straight to me and I scoop him up, laughing in spite of my mood. His chubby finger pokes my face.   
“Jo-Jo, you look like a princess!”  
“Thanks, little buddy.”   
I’m unsure how else to respond to that, but Kaylie sees my expression and jumps into the conversation.   
“Do you know why Johanna’s wearing that dress?”   
“Why?”   
“She’s been invited to go dancing with someone very special. Isn’t he?”   
She winks at me. Chase looks at my startled face, eyes wide. “Are you in love with your boyfriend?”   
I slap my sister’s hand. “Stop it! Now you’ve got him convinced I’m boy-crazy and a scandalous flirt!”   
I laughed at the very idea of having a crush. The boys at school love to pick on me since I’m the only female lumberjack and lead climber in the teens division. What they think doesn’t matter to me, and I’ve shown them just how strong the ‘little woodland princess’ is on numerous occasions. Kaylie and I tickle Chase, who shrieks with laughter until he begs us to stop. I put him down, his face still red with joy.   
“It’s time, Johanna,” my mother says.   
Our whole family leaves the house and proceeds down the road to the section of woodland where I work six out of seven days a week. Although the work is taxing, I mostly enjoy it. My mother taught me how to throw multiple kinds of axes, hit any target, and how to scale a tree’s branches quickly and nimbly. She doesn’t call me her lumberjack queen for nothing. Today, the warehouse containing workers’ tools is dressed up with a banner boasting the seal of Panem with the words ‘Panem Today. Panem Tomorrow. Panem Forever.’ I narrow my eyes at it. My family can barely make ends meet, even with four working people. Kaylie’s a carpenter. I work until my fingers are calloused from tree bark and red from axe handles. Chase collapsed of hunger once when I was fourteen. I can’t believe our government has the nerve to include all of us in its goal for a better nation when so many of its people are near starving! I think Kaylie can sense my thoughts because she clamps a hand on my shoulder. I swallow hard, fighting to compose myself before I say something rash. My father always claims I was born without any self-control.   
“I’ll be right over there where you can see me.”   
My sister points to the spectator section roped off with white tape.   
“I’ll see you soon.”  
Then she’s gone. I join the rapidly growing throng of kids and hastily scrawl my name on a sheet of paper before getting a blood sample taken on a piece of paper. The Capitol wants to keep tabs on any potential tributes. Nothing is safe from them, even our own blood. After I sign in, I move aside to stand in a cluster with the other seventeen-year-olds. I catch the eyes of some of them and they scowl at me in response, turning away. I keep to myself at school, so I don’t have many friends. Everyone in my year knows my strong personality, though. I don’t let anyone push me around. The wealthier kids make fun of me for how dirty I am and how worn my clothes are, but I don’t give a damn. My family cares for each other, especially through trying times. Even if I was the richest person in District 7, I couldn’t stand living in Panem if I didn’t have love.   
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome!” trills the annoying high voice of District 7’s escort, Lola. She’s in a frilly purple gown and dyed her frizzy mane of hair bright green. I don’t know why the people in the Capitol look like shallow idiots all the time. Maybe it's because they are. She stands on a makeshift stage in front of the warehouse, two enormous glass balls on pedestals flanking her. I look over at the tightly clustered families and see Kaylie giving me a bemused, albeit a little strained, look. Chase waves at me, and I return it discreetly.   
“In just a few moments, I will draw the names of the children who will have the honor of participating in the 71st Hunger Games. Before I do so, here is a message from our president!”   
The TV screen mounted between two redwood trees plays the video that gets shown before every reaping in all of Panem: The districts rebelled, the Capitol stopped the uprising, now we have the Hunger Games. The screen fades to black, and everyone’s attention is again fixed upon the stage. I can feel the anxiety of every parent and relative radiating through the air. Everyone’s thinking the same thing: Please, not my child.   
“Ladies first!” Lola screeches.   
She crosses to the bowl on her left, swishing a manicured hand around with surgical precision. She selects a slip of paper, opening it like a rose she doesn’t want to crush. In a voice that has at once become clear and articulate, the name of the female tribute is called out.   
“Johanna Mason!”


	2. To The Capitol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will happen after Johanna is reaped, and who are her opponents?

Once when I was working in the woods, a girl who picked fights with me on numerous occasions shoved me under a falling tree. I was pinned to the ground, screaming for what seemed like hours before a few men in another work unit freed me. That’s how I feel now, rooted in place, the weight of my name spoken aloud suffocating me. Surrounding kids part like the sea, making a clear path to the stage. Every eye in the clearing is fixated on my tiny, quaking form.   
“You could never stay out of trouble, Johanna,” a boy to my left hisses.   
A strangled cry comes out of my throat, morphing into a full-blown scream. Peacekeepers mounted next to the stage escort me forward, but I shake their hands off and walk up the steps leading to the podium. Actually, it’s more of a stagger. I almost fall on the steps going up to the stage. Numbly, I shake hands with our district’s mentor. I think his name is Blight.  
“Lovely,” Lola peeps. “And now for the boys!”   
She chooses a slip of paper from the other bowl.   
“Cassius Raven!”   
A tall, broad-shouldered specimen strolls confidently up to the stage. I’d put him at eighteen. His skin is tanned from hours in the sun, and his black eyes would be handsome if not for the malicious glint in them. Lola’s smiling like the holidays have come a month early, the unperceptive twit.   
“I present to you the tributes of District 7!”  
Our escort motions for us to shake hands. Cassius looks to be over six feet, and he crushes my hand in his. Suddenly, he pulls me toward him as if for a hug. I comply, more for the cameras than anything else. He whispers in my ear, “It will be fun to play with the likes of you in the arena.”  
I realize he’s the boy who hissed at me earlier. What a day I’m having.   
“I doubt you’ll be playing with me anytime soon.”  
Cassius pulls back from the false display of affection and I stare back at him, unflinching. Blight proceeds to read a speech about how honored he is to mentor this year’s tributes, but I don’t hear any of it. I’m searching the crowd for my family and my heart twists when I make out their faces. My mother is clenching her fists so tightly they must be white and my father is openly sobbing. Kaylie looks shocked, dumbfounded. The only person who doesn’t know what’s going on is Chase. He’s grinning at me and waving like he did before the reaping began. Now I don’t have time to return it because Cassius and I are both escorted away, one step closer to the gallows. 

The room the Peacekeepers take me to is stunningly beautiful, with richly colored carpets, plush sofas, and blue painted walls. I pace rapidly across the floor, too full of anxiety and other pent-up emotions to sit. The fact that I’m going to the Games doesn’t feel real. Could I have been cutting down trees at work only yesterday? One of the Peacekeepers who tried to shove me onto the stage during the reaping comes into the room. “You have three minutes,” he growls.   
I’m a little confused until my entire family bursts in except for Chase. My parents must have decided to keep him at home. Good, I think. I don’t want him to see me like this. I want to remember his wave.   
I don't have much time to think about my brother because my mother crouches down, taking me by my skinny shoulders. Her face is still strong, inscrutable.   
“Listen, my baby girl. You have an indomitable spirit. As long as you never lose it, you will come home.”   
She tilts my head up so I am looking into her eyes. Despite my almost imminent demise, my heart feels too full to speak. My father is too upset to say much, only the words “Come back to us, Johanna. We’ll all be waiting for you.” I meet Kaylie’s kind blue eyes and that’s when I feel something inside of me crack. I cling to her like a lifeline as she gently strokes my hair like when I was little and fell multiple times from running too fast around the house.   
“My sweet little sister,” she whispers. “Oh, my precious darling. It will all be all right.”   
I want to stay in her arms forever, this girl who has always been my rock, but the Peacekeeper comes in and starts to pull my family away from me. At the end of the chaos, right as they’re being forcibly escorted out the door, Kaylie screams, “Remember, Johanna, no one except you knows your strengths!”   
Then the door slams and they’re gone. A second later, I’m being walked out to the train that will take my district partner and I to the Capitol, the ruling city of Panem. I’m again astounded by the sheer beauty of the vehicle's exterior once I step inside. The inside of the train is just as pristine as the outside, with delicacies of every single food group on the table. As someone who’s used to being caked in dirt and wood shavings, I feel almost too dirty to be standing here.   
I shouldn’t be ashamed. Why should the Capitol get luxury while people toil in the districts day and night?   
Blight and Lola are seated at the table, along with Cassius.   
“Hello, my dear,” Lola chirps. “I was just saying to Cassius that everything here is at your disposal- your room is near the back of the train. I was wondering where you were. It took a bit longer than three minutes for you to get out of there. What could have possibly taken you so long?”   
“Why are you even speaking to me?”   
I’ve shocked Lola, I know. Cassius, too; he looks like he wants to strangle me.   
Not now, Cassius, there’ll be plenty of time for that later.   
“I was saying goodbye to my family. You know, people who love you, care for you, will always look after you? Oh, sorry, I forgot that you don’t have those in the Capitol.”   
“Young lady!”   
I don’t care. Damn my silly little escort! Damn everyone in the Capitol! It’s their fault I’m even here and not laughing at something funny my little brother said right now! I feel tears starting to pool in my eyes and frantically wipe them away.   
“I’m not hungry,” I snapped. I stalk off toward the back of the train car and don’t hear footsteps behind me until a voice speaks.   
“You were very brave back there.”   
I whip around to see Blight. He doesn’t look shocked, only studies me calmly.   
“I’m not fond of Lola either. She has no right to be cheerful when the tributes are going off to serve as Capitol fodder.”  
I didn’t expect a mentor to speak like this. Blight’s not at all turning out like I expected him to.  
“Aren’t you going to give me the ‘be grateful for the Capitol’ speech? ‘It’s an honor to be participating in the Hunger Games?’”  
He laughed humorlessly. “I don’t see a point to it. I know you want to be left alone, but I have something for you first.”   
He’s silent for a minute, then holds something out to me. It’s a carved iris flower. Right before my mother gave birth to me, my father was outside at a neighbor’s garden picking flowers for her. When the birth was over, my mother decided that Iris would be my middle name.  
“Where did you get this?”   
“Your sister asked me to give it to you as a token.”   
That’s right. Lots of tributes over the years had little mementos from their home district. I once saw a girl drop a small wooden ball while still on her pedestal and she got blown sky-high. Not like I would be stupid enough to do something like that.   
“I didn’t expect someone who lives at the Capitol to do something nice for me, let alone District 7’s mentor,” I say bluntly.  
Blight laughs a little, but I can tell he’s sad. He kneels down so we are eye to eye. It reminds me of my sister so much I start to feel my throat clamp up. No. I won’t lose it in front of Blight. He’s my mentor and I don’t want him to think I’m a pathetic blubbering mess.   
“You don’t have to thank me, Johanna. It’s the Capitol who should be apologizing to you.”   
Before I can respond, he’s gone. I push the door in front of me open and close it quickly to escape any prying eyes. I carefully unzip my dress, making sure to hang it in the full-length closet, and look through the chest of drawers until I find a simple nightgown, although it does have a small bow on each sleeve. It’s not until I crawl under the bed’s silken sheets when everything that happened crashes into me like I’d been hit full in the face with an axe’s handle. The people who I love more than anything will be forced to watch me die a fast, gruesome death or a painful but slow one in the arena.  
You have an indomitable spirit, Johanna.   
But I didn’t feel strong. I felt like a seventeen-year-old girl who shoved a group of Peacekeepers and screamed at her reaping. The tears I’ve been holding back since I said goodbye to my parents and sister spill over and I finally let myself sob, regardless of who might be listening. Thinking of my family is too much. I’m not with them. I should be at home with them! I bite down on the pillow, my cheeks wet, and scream with everything inside me until I have no voice left. After I have cried myself out, I lie there listening to the rocking of the train and finally fall asleep with Kaylie’s token tucked in my hand.


End file.
